A/N: A massive thanks to Shayalonnie for her help on this chapter. Her typing fingers are truly blessed, because whole sentences flowed forth to help me fix an issue I was having. Another massive thanks to Oblivionbaby, without whom I would be lost in a mire of misplaced commas and typos. This story wouldn't be what it is without those two. And thank you to you, dear reader, who help to inspire me. Your reviews are, as ever, a thing of beauty.

The Burrow

16 August 1998

The Burrow stood tall against the evening sky, the sun hanging low on the horizon behind it and beginning to paint the sky with oranges and pinks. The Burrow itself looked more silhouette than home from this distance, and Harry was reminded of Hogwarts on the eve of battle, of the way the castle had loomed, dark and forlorn in the distance as he had trekked into the Forbidden Forest to meet his fate. Now—facing the the prospect of the entire Weasley clan descending upon him—he thought he might rather be back in the forest.

With a deep breath, Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and glanced down at Delphi, snug against his chest in the carrier Hermione had conjured for him the week before. "Ready to meet the rest of the family?" he asked. Delphi only smiled and reached up for his glasses, leaving fingerprints behind on the lenses before he managed to wrestle them out of her grasp and shove them back on his face. "Do me a favor and do that to Percy when you meet him."

The walk down the hill and to the Burrow's door took far less time than he had hoped, but by the time he was considering turning around again, he had been spotted through a window and had heard someone shout, "They're here!" He stood at the door for several seconds trying to work up the courage to knock, and just as he raised his fist, the door swung open.

Ginny stood framed by the chaos of her mother's sitting room. Most of her brothers stood behind her, trying to look far more interested in their shoes than they had any right to be, and in the corner, Hermione sat in an armchair, a book open on her lap as she stared anxiously at Harry in the doorway.

"It's true," Ginny said, her voice low as she stared wide eyed at Delphi.

Harry tried to speak but found his throat curiously tight. He cleared it and tried again. "Gin, this is Delphi."

"I know who she is," Ginny snapped, her eyes flashing as she glanced imperiously up at him and then back down at the baby. "We read all about her in the Prophet." Harry tensed, wary as Ginny watched them, only relaxing slightly when her gaze softened and she looked away. "Come in," she said at last, her voice small, her shoulders drooping as she stepped aside and motioned Harry into the house.

"Bloody hell, Harry." Ron spoke from his right, and Harry turned to face his friend. "You could have warned a bloke you were adopting a kid."

"It was sudden," Harry said. He sounded awkward to even his own ears. "The Dursley's—"

"I know," said Ron. "The Prophet printed the whole story, and bleeding Skeeter's been hounding the lot of us for an interview about the accident. Won't believe that none of us has any idea what happened."

"I didn't mean to put you all in a bad spot," Harry apologized. Bloody Skeeter. He should have expected she'd stick her nose in any crevice she could find for a story.

"It's no trouble," Hermione said, rising from her spot and coming to stand beside Ron. She touched his arm, and he glanced down at her, favoring her with a smile as some of the tension melted from his shoulders.

"No, of course not," Ron agreed. "It's only we were worried about you. We know you weren't close with them, but the Dursley's were family, weren't they?"

"Family!?"

Harry looked up at the sound of the voice he had been dreading the most, wincing slightly as he found the Weasley matriarch standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her hands settling on her hips as she surveyed the room. "They may have been blood," she said, "but we are his family." With that, she strode across the room, yanking Harry into a fierce hug and only releasing him when Delphi began to protest. "Of course, I don't mean to speak ill of the dead," she continued, her eyes growing moist as they landed on the curly headed child whose hands were clinging tightly to the front of Harry's shirt. "Now, who have we here?"

"This is Delphi," Harry said, untying the carrier with a flick of his wand and sending it to sit neatly folded on a nearby chair. "Delphi," he continued once she was shifted into his arms, "this is Mrs Weasley."

"Nonsense," Molly said promptly, "She'll call me Nan. May I hold her?"

Harry hesitated, knowing that his new daughter was wary of strangers, but before he could think how to phrase his response, the girl was reaching her arms out to the woman in front of her with a happy smile. Surprised but pleased, Harry shifted the baby's weight into Molly's arms and watched as she began to pluck at the beading around the collar of her robes.

"Well, she's a damn sight prettier than we were expecting," said George from his seat near the fireplace. "She must take after her mum, because we all know that cousin of yours was no looker."

"George!"

"Sorry, Mum. I'm right though, aren't I?"

Ron nodded with a grin, and Hermione rolled her eyes as he wound an arm around her waist, a gesture Harry caught and tried to put out of his mind.

"She seems lovely," said Ginny softly, still standing beside the door. Her eyes were glistening now. Harry could see that she was upset and felt a twinge of guilt. He had done what he had needed to do that night on Dupart Lane, but his actions had consequences, not just for him or for Delphi, but for the people already in his life.

"Ginny—"

"We'll talk later, I think," she said before he could get out another word, and then she was rushing from the room and up the stairs towards the upper levels of the house. Harry moved to go after her, but a firm hand on his arm stayed him.

"She needs time, Harry," said Arthur, who was looking after his daughter with a concerned expression. At last, he looked back at Harry, his smile kindly. "You haven't done anything wrong, son. Even so, these things take adjusting." Harry nodded; his chest was tight again as he turned back around. Hermione caught his gaze, her face sympathetic, and Harry felt some of the tightness release. Arthur was right. Ginny had every right to be confused or upset… but that didn't mean he had done the wrong thing. Delphi was his daughter, and the people in his life would need to come to terms with that.

Dinner was a subdued affair, with only the Weasley's and Andromeda in attendance with Teddy. Harry spent a great deal of his time holding the little baby and marveling at how much larger Delphi seemed in comparison to his godson. For her part, Delphi spent her time going from Weasley to Weasley, happily babbling to each before finally settling into Hermione's arms and refusing to be moved. Harry watched, amused as Hermione struggled to eat her steak and ale pie one handed.

"So, have you got everything you need, Harry?" Molly spoke from the opposite end of the room, her wand aimed at a trifle which was floating to the center of the table. "For Delphi, I mean. It's been ages since I needed baby things, but I've got plenty of toys and outfits set aside in the shed. I couldn't bear to part with them when Ginny outgrew the lot."

"I think I've got most of it," Harry said, touched that Molly would offer. "Hermione helped me with the shopping. Turns out she's a bit of a whiz at baby things."

Ron seemed to stiffen where he sat beside Hermione, glancing over at her but saying nothing. Harry didn't think she had even noticed, but he changed the subject all the same. The last thing he wanted was to say something stupid that would cause them to fight. "Thank you for offering, though," he finished, directing his gaze and a smile back at Molly, who nodded graciously.

"Well, you just keep it in mind if you find you're missing anything, Harry," she said. "I've got a shed full of things just waiting."

"Mind if we take a look through it?" Bill asked, his voice casual as Fleur's laugh tinkled from beside him.

"Why would you need to—" began Arthur, looking up from the plate he was liberally loading with trifle, his eyes wide as his jaw finally dropped. "Merlin, are you two going to have a baby?"

Fleur's laughter chimed again as the table erupted into chaos and Molly lost her bloody mind, springing from her spot and rushing around the table to drag Bill and Fleur both out of their chairs and into her voluminous embrace. Harry watched the whole exchange, amused, and congratulated the couple in his turn. He noted the pride in Molly's face as she sat once more, fanning herself and exclaiming about her wonderful fortune to get two grandchildren in a single day.

As the family settled down again, and Harry placed a squirming Teddy back into Andromeda's arms, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a curly head of brown hair disappearing round the corner.

"Excuse me," he said to Andromeda, rising from his seat and following Hermione out of the room and into the stairwell. He entered the stairwell just in time to see her disappearing onto the first landing, and followed at a quick pace. Once he had cleared the last step, he paused in the hallway, listening intently for a moment to gauge which of the two doors she had disappeared behind. The first, he knew, belonged to Ginny. She had not descended for supper, and so he knew she was likely still behind that door, alone in her room. He thought about going in to her, about telling her that he still cared for her, and that he was sorry he had been so distant lately. For Merlin's sake, he had missed her birthday the week before to meet with Dudley, sending only his profuse apologies and the 'news' about the car accident his family had been in with the postal owl. He'd been a terrible boyfriend lately, had made this huge, life changing decision without even discussing it with her first. No, Ginny had a right to her solitude and to her feelings. He wouldn't disturb her now, not when his priorities had changed so drastically in the past week. Caring for Delphi—being a father—overshadowed everything now, and he had a feeling that Ginny would not share his enthusiasm for these new plans. Understandable, considering she'd had to find out about them from an owl.

"Ron, I'm not going to have this discussion with you!"

Hermione's voice came icy and clipped from the room to his right, Bill and Charlie's if Harry wasn't mistaken.

"I'm only asking you how much time you've spent with him lately. It's like I haven't seen you alone in weeks!"

"I don't like what you're insinuating."

Harry moved to open the door. If they were going to row, he thought he ought to check and see that Delphi was taken away.

"Who says I'm insinuating anything? But now that you mention it, that kid does seem awfully familiar with you."

"Ron, you're embarrassing yourself. Honestly."

"I'm only saying there's something you're not telling me," hissed Ron as Harry hesitated with his hand on the door. Did Ron suspect the truth? Did he know? "I'm not stupid, Hermione."

"I never said that," she cried, and Harry heard Delphi beginning to fuss. He lowered his head and opened the door, stepping into the room before looking up.

"Is Delphi up here with you lot?" he asked, trying his best to sound casual.

"Here she is," said Hermione with a forced smile. She picked the fussing baby up from the narrow single bed she had been wriggling on, snapping her outfit back into place deftly. "Just needed a new nappy."

"Ron," said Harry, nodding in his friends direction. The redhead merely nodded in return, his lips pressed tightly together into a thin line, his jaw clenched.

"The pair of you still coming round to Grimmauld Place after dinner?"

Hermione glanced at Ron who remained still and expressionless. "We'll be there," she said, and narrowed her gaze.

"Right," said Harry. "I'm heading back down for some trifle then. I'll leave you be."

When the door closed behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief and climbed down the stairs to the kitchen.

oOoOoOoOo

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

Her room was the one beside his, and he left the doors open between them each night, listening carefully for any sound which might indicate he was needed. For the most part, she slept soundly, but there had been the odd night since her arrival when she had woken in the hours after midnight, whimpering and sobbing, and clearly suffering from some sort of nightmare. On those nights, he had held her until she had soothed and fallen asleep once more. He couldn't bear the thought of doing anything less.

Now, as he lowered her down into the crib, her body limp in sleep, he took a moment to survey the room. It was pretty enough, he thought. Hermione had helped him with the furniture and the decorations, insisting on some sort of theme when they had scoured the muggle shops. Harry hadn't had any idea nurseries needed themes, but Hermione had seemed certain. As a result, Delphi's room was decorated with atlases and globes and an interesting looking spyglass Harry had found in an antiques shop to complete the "adventure" theme they had settled on. Delphi didn't seem to care one whit about the decor, but she did enjoy the toys Harry had filled a whole shopping cart with. She looked at each and every one as if it were something new and completely foreign to her. She took her time studying them and imitating Harry as he demonstrated their uses, delighting in her ability to do as he had done. Her favorite, however, was a little plush lamb which fit perfectly into the crook of her arm, and which Harry now settled into the crib beside her head.

With one last glance about the room, Harry stepped back into the hallway. He lifted his wand and cast a murmured charm which would alert him to any disturbance within the nursery before descending the stairs toward the basement kitchen. He thought briefly about seeing what was in the refrigerator before dismissing the idea. He was still stuffed from dinner, and Hermione and Ron would be coming through the Floo at any moment. At least he hoped they would be. Merlin but they'd been tense when he had left them in Bill's old room. He knew Ron had a temper and that his friend hated being kept in the dark; he should have expected that he wouldn't just swallow the story he and Hermione had concocted without complaint. Ron was clever and not easily duped, and his sense of loyalty meant that he didn't deal well with any sort of betrayal, real or perceived. What would happen if he found out about where Delphi had really come from? Harry only hoped that he and Hermione would be able to restrain Ron before he did anything incredibly stupid or irreversible.

Hermione. Christ, was it even fair of him to ask Hermione to keep something so huge from her boyfriend? From their best friend? No wonder the couple's relationship had seemed strained of late; it was probably a direct result of the secrets Harry had been sowing between them. Ron wasn't stupid—of course he had realized that Hermione was disappearing more often… Was it any wonder that he seemed to suspect something more salacious was happening? Harry dismissed the thought with a frown. No, just because Hermione was gone more often was no reason to accuse her of something as base as carrying on with his best friend. If it were him in Ron's place, he would never—

Harry clamped a steel lid on the thought. He had no business—couldn't let himself think about—

Whoosh. The Floo flared to life and Harry sprang from his seat at the table, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he watched first Hermione and then Ron come through, each stepping into the kitchen covered in a thin layer of green dust.

"Hi Harry," Hermione breathed, her smile not really reaching her eyes as she bounded into the room. "Is Delphi asleep already?"

"Just barely. Ron, what've you got there?" Harry motioned to the lumpy foil package beneath Ron's arm.

Ron, who had been standing stiffly, looked down at the parcel, his expression softening as he held it out for Harry to take. "Left overs," he said. "Mum thought you may want them."

"Thanks." Harry grinned, taking the food and tucking it into the refrigerator before turning back to face his two friends. "Fancy a game of wizard's chess?"

Ron smiled, nodding gratefully, and Harry caught Hermione's eye as they made their way up to the drawing room. She smiled encouragingly and followed Ron, taking the hand he extended for her and allowing him to lead her to the nearest bookshelf.

After Harry had lost his second game in a row, he laughed, settling back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

"Well," he teased, "a life of luxury at your mum's doesn't seem to have affected your head for strategy."

"It's certainly affected one of my heads, I'll tell you that much," Ron laughed, apparently unphased by the murderous look Hermione was now aiming at him.

"Ron!"

"I'm only saying, the woman's got a nose for it. Every time I look at you sideways, she's sauntering into the room."

"Your mother doesn't saunter," Hermione said, "and it's not as if we've been up to anything more than—" She fell silent abruptly, her eyes widening as if she'd only just realized Harry was still in the room. Apparently mortified, she blushed to her roots and lifted the book she had been reading up to her nose.

Harry and Ron both fell into fits of laughter as Hermione seethed quietly. At last, she seemed to have had enough, because she slammed down her book and strode from the room, muttering under her breath about "disgusting, incorrigible boys" before disappearing from sight. Harry and Ron laughed for nearly a full minute more before they were able to contain themselves, each wiping at the corners of their eyes and running a hand through their hair.

"Blimey," Ron said, "I don't think I've ever seen her that red. I'm going to pay for that later, aren't I?"

"Undoubtedly," Harry confirmed, standing to retrieve the bottle of firewhisky he'd found stashed in a sideboard after moving in. He conjured two glasses and filled them with the amber liquid, offering one to Ron, who took it eagerly.

"As many as we can before Hermione comes back?" Ron asked challengingly. Harry laughed but shook his head.

"Can't," he said. "Who'll take care of Delphi if I get sloshed?"

"Bloody hell, you're right," Ron said, going pale as he settled back in his chair, as if the thought of his friend as a father were terrifying. "I keep forgetting."

"Well, you haven't had a chance to get used to it, have you?" Harry asked. "I mean, I know this changes things. I don't think I really understood until tonight that it's not just me affected."

"No, you're not," Ron agreed, looking more sedate now as he sipped his firewhisky. He seemed to want to say more but thought better of it, pressing his mouth into a familiar thin line instead.

"What is it?" Harry asked, aware that he would very likely not like the answer.

"It's nothing," Ron dismissed.

"You're a piss poor liar, Ron."

"What do you want me to say?" Ron looked away, staring into the fireplace on the wall opposite him.

"I want you to say what's on your mind," Harry prompted, taking care to keep his own voice low and neutral. He didn't want to provoke Ron, but he needed to know what his friend was thinking. If he suspected the truth about Delphi... Harry had to know.

"Alright," said Ron, sounding determined now, "I think you might have jumped into this without thinking it through. What the hell do either of us know about raising a baby, mate?" Harry frowned. Was this what had Ron so tense? He was worried Harry wouldn't know how to change a bloody nappy?

"What was I supposed to do?" asked Harry, aware that he sounded defensive but not sure how to say it any differently. "Leave her to be raised in some orphanage?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Ron argued, and Harry could see the frustration mounting in the set of his shoulders. "But she might have been a Muggle, and then what would you have done? Do you know what happens to squibs in our world? You took her on before even thinking about what it might mean for her, or for anyone else. You didn't think it through, mate!"

"She's not a Muggle," Harry countered. "Magical adoption only works between two magical—"

"You don't need to recite some textbook Hermione looked up for you, Harry. I know the kid's not a Muggle, but she might of been, coming from your cousin. And that's not the point anyway! I'm only saying you should have thought this through a bit more. I mean, did you even think of asking my Mum for advice, or telling Ginny what you were planning? We found out about it in the Prophet! We're supposed to be your family, Harry, you don't just keep things like this from the people who give a damn about you!"

"That's what this is about? You're annoyed because I didn't tell you first? I'm sorry, Ron, I didn't realize I was expected to base my major life decisions off of your approval." Harry's tone was growing frosty now, and he knew he should do something, anything to defuse the situation before it got out of hand, but before he could think of something which might help, Ron was speaking again.

"No, you're only basing them off of my girlfriend's. What, can't be bothered to talk to your own?"

There it is, thought Harry, there's what's really bothering him. And he knew that he should proceed delicately, knew that the last thing any of them needed was for him to prick at Ron's pride… but a smug voice inside of him was beginning to form his words for him, was telling him that he had every right to talk to Hermione, because he had always been there for her when Ron was disappointing her.

"Well. Maybe she—"

"What on earth is going on in here?"

The rational part of Harry's brain was relieved at Hermione's timely interruption, but a very real part of him was annoyed. He scowled in her direction, crossing his arms mutinously over his chest as Ron mirrored his posture exactly.

"Ron, what have you done?!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing into the room and placing herself squarely between the two of them.

"Of course you assume it's me," Ron spat. "Can't be bothered to give me the benefit of the doubt."

"Ron please, please. I asked you before we came not to—"

"He asked, Hermione! He asked me what I was thinking, and I told him! He's my friend too, you know! I'm allowed to bloody well tell him when he's being an idiot!"

"An idiot? That's what you think I'm being?" Harry could feel his blood boiling now, and as Ron squared his shoulder and clenched his jaw, he wanted nothing more than to punch the speckled git in the face.

"Harry, he doesn't mean it," Hermione cried. "He just doesn't understand what—"

"OF COURSE I DON'T UNDERSTAND! NEITHER OF YOU HAVE SAID MORE THAN TWO GODDAMNED WORDS TO ME IN WEEKS!" Ron's bellow seemed to shake the walls, and as he whirled around to slam his palms against the wall at his back, they did tremble.

Abruptly, a chime sounded in Harry's ear, and he glanced upwards. Delphi. The commotion had probably woken her. The hot anger and defensiveness which had burned through him a moment before seemed to recede in a rush, a wave washing backwards toward the sea.

"I don't understand why you couldn't trust me," Ron said, sounding defeated. Hermione let out a breath that sounded almost like a sob, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth.

"Ron, please. Look at me," she begged. Harry only watched as Ron's shoulders seemed to sag and he moved as if to turn back around. There it was, the cue that meant he was ready to talk things through rationally, to listen...But then he froze. His broad shoulders stilled mid motion as his gaze seemed to rivet on a spot of wall in front of him. Confused, Harry's eyes scanned over what he could see of the surface beyond Ron's burly frame. The blood in his veins turned to ice.

There, Ron's hands digging into the fabric of it, hung the Black Family Tapestry. Harry remembered in a flash the last time the three of them had paid any attention to the thing. They had rowed. He could hear Ron's voice echoing in his mind. Why the hell do you think it's worth protecting?

"Ron?" Hermione questioned, not realizing why he must have stopped.

But Harry knew.

"We thought you'd died. You didn't say a word, walked into the forest, and . . . not even a goodbye. And Voldemort said . . ." Ron's voice grew tight as he spoke, every word sending panic through Harry's chest. He didn't dare speak. "And then that . . . horrible bitch tried to kill Hermione, tried to kill my sister, and my mum."

Though Harry knew Bellatrix had not been behind it, the familiar grief-stricken tone that he'd come to associate with Fred's death was in Ron's voice now. Snatchers, Death Eaters, Bellatrix, Voldemort. They were all the same, all to blame, in Ron's eyes.

"Ron?" Hermione said again, and Harry instinctively reached out to her, torn between needing her by his side and some parental drive to stay put, nearest to the staircase.

"She did kill Sirius," Ron said, the grief in his voice changing, festering into anger. "Did you forget that?"

And then he was exploding into motion, whirling around and pushing past Hermione to stand in front of Harry's drawn wand. He hadn't even realized he had raised it until Ron was pressing his chest against the tip.

"Bellatrix killed your godfather, Voldemort killed you, and you . . . you . . you adopted that fucking thing?!" he said through gritted teeth.

"Ron!" Hermione cried.

"Get the hell out of my house." Harry's voice was deadly calm, his arm surging forward to shove the tip of his wand more deeply into Ron's chest. He felt a spark of magic surge from his palm and through the wand, singeing Ron's shirt and causing him to stumbled backwards, hissing in pain.

"With pleasure," he spat.

Harry watched him leave, his wand trained on Ron's back until he disappeared from sight.